Spy vs Spy
by PurtFiend
Summary: I think this title says it all. It is very loosely based on the Mad cartoon of the same name, and every clichéd spy movie there ever was. I hope you enjoy this one off.


_**Spy vs. Spy**_

"So we meet again Dirk Kay, I believe for the last time," the petite villain purrs in his soft, sotto voice.

I have just woken up from a drug induced sleep to find myself strapped up in a heavy canvas straight jacket tied down with metal chains that are padlocked to a chair bolted to the floor in what appears to be a cement cell deep underground. Rather a retro way of binding me but effective I decide, as I tentatively test out my bonds. The last thing I remember is being surrounded by eight of Porcelain's thugs. I was holding my own, perhaps even winning until I felt a sharp sting on my neck. I had instinctively slapped my neck as you would, being stung by an insect, only to discover a small dart in my fingers when I pulled my hand away. Now, I feel quite disoriented and dopey, my tongue feels thick and heavy, my stomach is rolling with nausea and my head is pounding, but I am a secret agent for the Global Terrorist Control better known as the GTC and therefore must keep up appearances.

I just smirk cavalierly, as if I couldn't less and respond. "It will be the last time, because you'll never succeed at your fiendish plot, for I will personally see that you rot in some hell hole prison in a shithole nation lovingly picked by the GTC."

"Bah! Your ridiculous spy organization has tried many times to catch me and they have failed miserably!"

"And you have tried even more times to destroy them and you have failed miserably." I respond casually. My taunt is rewarded admirably by an angry flush that blooms on his perfect, handsome face and I idly wonder how far it will spread under that incredibly well tailored suit he was wearing. As usual he was dressed in all black, directly opposite to the all white suit I was wearing. I suppose it is very simplistic for the forces of good to wear white and the forces of evil to wear black but it was certainly easy to tell who is who. It has become a sort of unwritten rule that we all agreed on in the early years - though why the GTC would follow an outdated, contrived Hollywood cliché and choose pure white that soils easily and is a bitch to keep clean - is beyond me.

As far as evil madmen go, Porcelain is extremely attractive - scratch that - as far as anyone goes, Porcelain is extremely attractive. He's tall, svelte yet muscular having an attractive dancer's body. He moves with feline grace and it is hard for me not to be mesmerized by his mere presence. He is my nemeses, the evil spy with whom I continually match wits with. In a strange way our strengths and weakness compliment each other and neither of us had found a way to beat the other. When I think of it, I know him more intimately than any other person I've ever known. I have made it my career to know everything about him; I've studied him, followed him, and spent countless hours keeping him under surveillance while he plotted his next diabolical move. If I was a civilian I would be considered a stalker or super fan, but since I do it for security for the world at large, I am considered the go to expert on the murderous arch villain named Porcelain.

I know all his likes and dislikes, even very personal ones. I know that for an evil genius his tastes are surprisingly simple. Money, for him is no object; he dresses in haute couture and loves artistic clothing choices yet he never choses fashions or bling that would label him Nouveaux Riche or overtly flashy. When on the job - which is trying to end the world as we know it and bring about a new order by wreaking havoc with governments worldwide while carrying out his personal vendetta against the GTC - he wears the afore mentioned elegant and well-tailored black suits that sets his pale skin off admirably. There's a reason he's called Porcelain.

He loves haute cuisine but only chooses healthy delicacies. His sexual tastes are exclusively male but he likes variety. I have seen him go out with all shapes and sizes of men. Looks don't seem as important to him as a lively intellect and an engaging personality. I've noticed that there hasn't been anyone special in the last few years, only hookups for sex and Porcelain loves lots of sex. It's not surprising that he has given up on serious relationships; in the spy business, significant others have an unusually high mortality rate, owing to the fact that they mostly end up as collateral damage. I myself have lost several girlfriends as a direct result of trying to bring Porcelain to justice and I have killed off my fair share of his sexual partners. Unfortunate, but its all part of the game. I have noticed he is a very generous and gracious lover. Even his one night stands are treated with respect and courtesy, and judging by the appreciative moans and exclamations uttered by his lovers in the full throws of coitus that I would hear over my listening devices, he is an expert lover. He is very flexible; I can just imagine his legs up on my shoulders, his head thrown back in rapture as I continually pound into him...

I fear the drugs in my system are still impairing my brain so I shake my head to clear my thoughts. I have become aware that Porcelain has already launched into his long evil monologue and I missed most of it while daydreaming.

"Porcelain, that's what your unit controller nicknamed me, after the little Hummel statuettes." (That was news to me, I always thought he was named they because of his fair skin).

"As I sat there crying over my father's body, she dismissed me as someone inconsequential, a cute little sobbing boy porcelain figurine." He stated as he was personally inspecting the padlocks and chains holding me. "Not that she didn't still try to kill me, as she said, '_when you get rid of vermin you don't separate the children vermin from the adult vermin; you murder them all.' _That was when I surprised her with the smoke bomb my father had secretly passed to me and got away. I decided then to claim the name Porcelain and make her rue the day she murdered my father and belittled me. I..."

"Do you mind shortening your evil monologue down a bit and get to the point?" I say cutting into his speech.

Normally I like to listen to his soft melodious voice while he rants. His monologues are actually interesting, peppered with pithy observations and witty phrases. There are some villains that are boring as hell with monologues that drone on forever, but not Porcelain's. I had to interrupt him abruptly, for he was checking the chains around my thighs and for whatever reason, I'm sure it was the stuff they doped me with, I realized that my blood was rushing to my groin. I didn't want to give him any ideas that I desired him or anything. He looks up sharply from the chains he was inspecting and glares at me. He then moves his face close to mine and for one heart-stopping minute I think he is going to kiss me. Instead he starts checking the straps that are holding my trapped arms and hands. I've never viewed him this close before and did not realise what clear blue eyes he has. They are the colour of a clear spring sky in the morning, promising a beautiful day. They have little flecks of green them...

"Fine! I'll get to the point; this cell you're in is a room in the basement of a bunker that's part of a base that is an old relic from the cold war. I bought it for a song on eBay. We're in balmy Siberia if you're interested. This old national defence base still has missile silos so I called in a few favours owed me by some Russian friends and voila! I now have my hands on a couple of nuclear warheads. All I have to do now is activate the warheads, and reprogram their directional systems. Meanwhile back here, this little cell of yours will be filling up with frozen water from the melting glaciers piped in from the mountains close by. As you're breathing your last freezing breath, take comfort in the knowledge that your great GTC center with all your spy colleagues will be instantly evaporated in white fire and will be dead shortly after you. Oh sorry - I mean that I will take comfort in that fact - you on the other hand, won't be very comfortable at all. Goodbye Mr. Dirk Kay." With that, Porcelain spins on his heel and saunters out of the cell without a backward glance.

Now to escape. I test my bonds and move my arms about to get a feel of where the straps are. The shirt is made of thick canvas and the straps were made of heavy leather. It is going to take a long time but I figure I can eventually cut my way through with this micro mini circular saw hidden in my ring. It looks like I have a bit of time before the water comes in; most likely Porcelain will order one of his evil minions to start the water as he leaves the building. I sit and ponder what Porcelain said about his confrontation with my unit controller Sue Sylvester. It was the same story but colder and more clinical, and I had never thought about it from Fancy's point of view. Fancy is a private name I use for him, it kind of trips off the tongue easier than Porcelain. I've heard Sue's version so many times, it had never occurred to me what he might have felt and how it would have affected him as a young boy on the cusp of manhood.

It was a tragic set of circumstances that led him to that day when he encountered Sue, escaped her clutches and became the evil genius he is today.

His mother was killed when he was seven years old by so called friendly fire. Both his parents worked for the GTC as undercover operatives. On one of their missions in Istanbul, there was a major communications fuck up and the compound in which they were staying was stealth bombed by their own people. Fancy's mother didn't survive and his father was horribly burned. Big H (as he was known) never got over his wife's death nor did he forgive GTC for inadvertently killing her. He continued to work for our spy organization, but secretly going rogue and selling sensitive information to the League of Evil, (LOE) the sinister conglomerate of criminals and terrorists bent on the destruction of our global organization.

His treachery was eventually discovered and he escaped to LOE with his young son. They spent the next ten years constantly on the run, hiring themselves out as contract mercenaries for any work that affected the GTC adversely. The Big H was an experienced, well-heeled spy who had intimate knowledge in our operating culture, systems and procedures. Even though we changed codes, passwords and techniques he knew us as people and knew how we as an organization thought. He was a very dangerous man that had to be neutralized before he destroyed the GTC. When Fancy was just seventeen he and his father were flushed out of hiding by one of our spy drones and into the waiting gunfire of Sue Sylvester. They were both targeted but Fancy survived mainly because of his father's quick reaction. He couldn't save himself but he made sure his son survived by shielding the boy with his own body. When he realized his dad was dead Fancy used the smoke bomb and escaped. His life has since been dedicated to the eradication of the GTC and especially Sue Sylvester.

Before his death, Big H. had trained Fancy well in all aspects of armed warfare, mechanics, weapons and hand to hand compact. Though he was exceptionally proficient at martial arts Fancy's particular favourite was psi blades. No one has ever survived battle with him using those blades, except me. The strange thing was - he beat me; he had me hands down with the swords at my throat, ready to drive them home. He must have been feeling generous that day because instead of killing me, he smashed the handle of one of the swords against my head, knocking me out for his getaway.

That's the odd thing about Fancy. I don't think he is as evil as the GTC wants everyone to believe. The world today seems so black and white just like our spy clothes. You're either good or evil. Keeping Fancy under surveillance as long as I have, I can't help but see him as a whole person with good and bad traits. He has done some horrible things in the name of revenge, but I have seen him commit many kind acts as well; he's not like a text book definition terrorist.

He gives a lot of his wealth to the poor and disaffected, many of whom were former workers/customers (clients) of Global Corp, our parent company, the mega corporation that manages most of the world governments. There seems to be more and more dissatisfied clients and they seem to be joining the League of evil in droves. Fancy refers to his organization as the League of Equality; it is its real name after all. But battling against an organization with such a name even though they want to dismantle the status quo is bad optics, so their group is always referred to as the League of Evil or LOE by our side. I had a colleague that made the mistake of calling the LOE by its proper name at a meeting once and he was instantly demoted to garbage collection. Of course the LOE calls our side Global Thought Control and accuses us of being the evil ones. We're the ones in power and the winner writes history so we are the good guys. Of course Fancy disagrees so we usually have quite a spirited debate when he captures me before he tries to kill me in whatever heinous device he has developed.

That's probably why he looked so angry and disappointed today when I cut him off. What with the drugs and his proximity I wouldn't have fared very well in a battle of wits. Even so, all these encounters with him and seeing how earnest he is in his beliefs, I am finding it increasingly difficult to defend Global Corp's policies. Before Global Corp took over, we used his antiquated ideals of democracy and failed. Every country with its own culture, traditions and religions led to wars, famine and non-productivity. But managing the world as one corporation is an efficient use of resources, stops wars and provides jobs and a decent way of living for the ones who work within the system. That's how it's supposed to work anyways though I admit that even with the corporate model of governing, there still is famine, non-productivity and warfare since we are constantly battling the LOE. It's not perfect, I grant you but nothing is.

Fancy's one big beef is that there is discrimination on a world-wide scale for anyone different from the corporate parameters Global Corp set out for its clients. But I don't see what the issue is. Having a homogenized corporate culture makes everything easier for the majority of people. If you're a square peg, you simply make yourself fit and you'll be a success. I know what Fancy's getting at, if you're defective, with a disability or injury things can get rough for you. I hear the corporate housing for people like that can be pretty bad if you don't have the credit to pay for it. I also admit that homosexuality is against Global Corp's personal relations policies, but people manage and are perfectly happy.

Look at me, I'm perfectly happy with my new girlfriend / fiancée Santana - or I should say Sandy (ethnic sounding names are against company policy); Sandy and I have an understanding. We protect each other. We are happy enough; we make out like we're really into each other in public and accept each other as best friends in private. The problem with Fancy is that he is too flamboyant. I can see why people like him can't fit in.

It seems more and more people are finding it difficult to fit in and are growing tired of corporate life and people like Fancy are seen as a beacon to some new order. It's no wonder Global Corp wants him neutralized. Sue hates him; she blames all the troubles we're having on people like Fancy. Just because we have had a few slow quarters and have had a few distribution problems, particularly with food, more and more "free areas" are opening up outside of our Global lands. It is starting to get a bit worrisome. It's no wonder Sue is so frustrated.

The GTC views Fancy as an even bigger threat than his dad. From the time his father died, Fancy has used his brains and personal drive to quickly amass a huge fortune for the sole purpose of using his money to revenge his father. Besides the large sums he spends on the poor (his socialist ideas and actions drives Global Corp to distraction - it's such an anathema to them as capitalists) he continually strives to disrupt their business. Time and time again his plots almost destroyed our organization. We may have been bruised or injured but he hadn't destroyed the GTC yet.

A large part of the reason why we were still around was because of me. I'm not bragging, it's simply the truth. I have been the only agent to go toe to toe and head to head with him and actually thwart his plans. Of course I have help, a young and tremendously gifted scientist, Britney S. Pierce. Britney might be a bit scatterbrained and even though she thinks her cat, Lord "Tubbington, helps her with suggestions (which is out right weird), the the girl seems to have a sixth sense on what devices to invent that help me confound Fancy's evil plans. There have been times too numerous to mention when I have been caught and placed in some fiendish death trap designed by Fancy and I happen to have just the exact concealed tool to help me escape. I'm sure today will be no different. In fact I shouldn't be wasting my time thinking about Fancy his tragic childhood or his stupid liberal lefty ideas. I should be attempting to escape.

I no sooner start to work at cutting the canvas with my micro saw when the freezing glacial waters come pouring in. I curse myself for daydreaming about Fancy; I could have been almost free. I hope this delay hasn't cost me my life.

The water has risen up to my knees as I finally cut the last strap binding my left arm. After the final strap is cut and my arms are free, I can tackle the chains around my legs. For that, Britney provided me with a tiny lock pick that doubles as a tie clip. I really struggle with the locks taking much longer than I would normally take. The water is unbearably cold. It is difficult to control my motor functions I am shivering so violently. What normally would take a quick of the wrist is laboriously slow.

When I finally break open all the locks, the water had risen to my thighs. I can feel my body going through the first stages of hypothermia so I know I it's imperative that I get out of this cell fast and find some warm dry clothes. I wade around the small cell looking for a way to escape. The door has a key pad but I have neither time nor lucidity to guess codes. I toy with the idea of opening the little access panel to jerry rig the door controls but with the frigid water rising so fast I will most likely electrocute myself. I finally notice a vent up close to the ceiling. I can't reach it by standing tip toe but if I stand on the chair Fancy provided with I should be able to take the screen off and shimmy through the large opening. I'm very fortunate that Fancy likes huge access tunnels and vents when designing his evil lairs because I have used them a lot in my various escapes.

This time my shoulders sag at the thought, because I remember that the chair is bolted to the floor and it will take some time and effort to get it free. Still I have to try so I crouch down the freezing water and get Britney's underwater laser device that she concealed in my belt buckle and start shearing off the bolts that hold the chair to the floor. I have to submerge my head to work and I am so cold I can barely hold the tool much less aim it at the bolts. This is the closest I have ever come to not surviving one of Fancy's traps. When coming up for air after freeing the second bolt I realise I am completely spent.

I am not shivering anymore because my body has given up trying to keep itself warm. I am too weak to breathe normally let alone hold my breath under water. I can feel myself losing consciousness, and the laser slips out of my hand. As the blackness overtakes me and I slip into the abyss. I have but one regret. I wished that I could have told Fancy about my feelings for him.

* * *

**_Somewhere in Fancy's Evil Lair..._**

I gradually surface to consciousness and I am immediately hit with waves of pain. My head pounds, my throat hurts like it was slashed with red hot knife and my ribs feel like they've been kicked into splinters. It takes me a moment to realize that I have not been subjected to cruel torture but have been resuscitated. Someone obviously worked very hard to keep me alive, for what purpose, I didn't know.

"I'm alive." I croak, so I can hear my own voice just to prove that it is true.

"Barely." Fancy states matter of factly from a place quite close by.

I manage to crack open one eye, which from the way I feel, is a major accomplishment. Fancy is sitting as close as he can to my bed very close to my head. Beside him I see a cup of ice on the side stand.

"Water," I manage to croak again.

Fancy quickly stands up, grabs the cup and carefully drops some ice chips onto my tongue. I let them melt in my mouth and the coldness is blissful on my tortured throat. I look at Fancy again and before I can ask, he adds more ice to my mouth. I reach up with my hand and he gives me the cup of ice.

"Try not to eat the ice too fast, not until you feel better." Fancy says.

I have a million questions to ask him but we are interrupted by an older woman in a white coat. She checks the various beeping machines, my heart rate, temperature and blood pressure without saying a word. The last thing I remember is her adding a needle to my IV.

* * *

_**Sometime later...**_

When I awake again I see that all the machines are gone and Fancy is still by my bed. There are some remains of food on the side stand so I have the impression that he has not left my side. Probably wishful thinking. I feel much more alert this time and the meds seem to be keeping a lot of the pain at bay. I attempt to speak, again, "Why...why am I still alive?" my voice still scratchy sounding but it's understandable.

"Because I didn't want you dead." Fancy states simply.

"Because you want me alive knowing that you nuked my coworkers? That I have finally failed to stop you?"

Kurt chuckled mirthlessly. "Don't sell yourself short, you stopped me. I didn't fire off the nuke; your friends are perfectly safe."

I just stared at him puzzled, "I stopped you? How?"

"By dying. I was expecting all sorts of last minute tricks to thwart me but not that. All the time I was preparing the nuke, I was expecting you to jump down from the ceiling or come crashing through a window to confront me, but you didn't. Just as I was arming the warhead, I got a call from the man I had left to monitor you, saying that you had died. Idiot! He was supposed to intervene if you ran into trouble, acting like a dumb ass guard checking up on you so you could over power him and escape. The jerk was in the toilet reading instead of doing his job." Kurt looked livid as he thought about it. I suddenly feared for the poor slob's existence.

"He said you were just sitting in the chair staring off into space instead of trying to escape. The water had started gushing in before you had removed the straight jacket. I had told him that you had to be out of the straight jacket before the water came in. But he is a fool and he thought you had loads of time to escape before drowning so he decided to take a crap. He didn't think the Ice cold freezing water would make all that much difference! When he got back, you hadn't escaped, you were lying face down in the water. The freezing cold water may have stopped you from escaping but it did help in slowing your metabolism down so we could revive you. Still it was a close call, your heart stopped twice. Once I got that phone call I stopped arming the nuclear warhead, I called my doctor and raced back here. The doctor is a miracle worker, she brought you back for me."

"Wait a minute. Let me get this straight, you want me to escape and stop you?"

Kurt sighed, "Yes, why else do you think you escape every single time. You yourself call me an evil genius after all. I am perfectly capable of making an escape proof trap for killing someone. Why would I allow you to wear your own clothes with all those hidden devices that I know from experience you always carry? I had made sure that there were warm, dry clothes just your size for you when you escaped the cell. My designs were simply meant to delay you, not kill you. I suppose it was bound to happen sooner or later, that you would not escape. My carefully contrived traps are not idiot proof." I wasn't quite sure if Fancy was referring to me or the guy that was supposed to be watching me.

"Wait a minute! You can't possibly take credit for my escapes. It takes great ingenuity on my part and specialized, state of the art tools and devices made by Britney our top scientist!"

Kurt smiled, "I have her lab monitored. I know exactly what she is designing for you and I make the trap accordingly. If she is out of ideas, I have a micro two way radio attached to her cat's collar so I can suggest tools and discuss ideas. We have quite good brain storming sessions. I like Britney."

"All this time, Lord Tumbington was actually speaking to her?!" Britney was forever giving Lord Tubbington credit for her ideas, now it finally made sense.

"Why would you sabotage your own plans?" I ask. "I thought you wanted the downfall of the GTC? And what about revenging your father?"

"The GTC is gradually imploding in on itself, with its unsustainable practices. It doesn't matter if my plots don't succeed. More and more people are dissatisfied with Global Corp and the corporation will eventually loss power and fall apart. As for my father, over the years I've killed many GTC operatives and have caused the death of many more. I think my father's death has been settled many times over."

I ponder what he said and it still doesn't make any sense. "If it doesn't matter if your plots are successful, why put all that money, time and effort to plan them especially if you are deliberately sabotaging yourself by allowing me to escape traps and stop you?"

He hesitates, and then replies, "Two reasons; first... it drives that bitch Sue Sylvester crazy and second...they deploy you to try and stop me."

Could it be...I swallow hard and ask, "Why do you want me deployed?"

Fancy becomes agitated. "Isn't it obvious? I'm hopelessly in love with you! "

I am stunned at this revelation, and stare at him open mouthed.

Fancy gathers his emotions in and stares haughtily at me. "Go ahead and laugh at me. Sneer at how pathetic I am falling for an obvious lady's man. You and Sue can share a laugh at my expense at how I succumbed to your charms."

I swallowed, "I'm not laughing at you Kurt - I wouldn't."

Kurt laughed bitterly, "You're using my real name. You must pity me. That's even crueler than laughing at me; being kind. I swear - if you say something like 'I'm flattered but I don't feel the same way' or something equally as nauseating like 'don't worry you'll find someone.' I swear, I will kill you!"

Though it's excruciating to move, I reach over and attempt to grab his hand but he snatches it away.

"Kurt! You don't need to find someone you already have him...me! I feel the same way about you."

Now it was Kurt's turn to look shocked. "You're lying, tricking me for some reason. You're straight. All those women."

"They meant nothing to me, they were for appearances sake. You know homosexuality isn't acceptable behavior according to Global Corp."

"And Sandy, your fiancé?"

"She's my beard." I answered but Kurt still looked sceptical. "Look, why do you think I was the Spy always assigned to stop you? It was because I requested the assignments and used my influence to keep other spies from getting a chance. I have turned down countless promotions because I wanted to stay a field agent so I could continue to confront you. Why do you think I spent countless hours of unpaid time watching you? I am completely obsessed with you. Don't you ever wonder why you always manage to escape? I always make sure there is some unmanned vehicle waiting with the keys in the ignition and the GPS systems dismantled. If you were captured, you would go to some prison somewhere and I would never see you again. And why do you think your boyfriends always ended up dead in our encounters? I specifically aimed at them because I was seething with jealousy."

Kurt started to look hopeful. "Really? I too was jealous and hated every woman you were ever with. I was behind that car bombing that Sandy was almost blown up in."

"Santana said it was you. I didn't believe her." We just smile stupidly at each for a while both realizing what we have admitted to each other. Suddenly Kurt moves and settles himself on the bed beside me. I move to make room and groan when my injured ribs protest.

"Sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you." Kurt exclaims and moves to get off the bed.

"No stay, please! I just can't move over to give you more room."

"Your ribs are broken from the rib compressions to save you. It was stupid of me to climb in bed, l should have realised." Kurt still fretted.

"I don't care if it hurts; I want you in here with me." To prove it I lift my arm up to let him snuggle closer, and try not to wince.

Kurt happily moves closer and laughs. "Dirk Kay - Mr. Tough guy."

"My real name is David karofsky."

"David Karofsky. I like it much better. It really suits you." Kurt's beaming smile suddenly falters. "This - us - it can't work. The LOE will not accept that I love and want a relationship with a GTC spy."

"No, and if you come back with me Sue and the GTC will see to it that you are thrown in jail for at least 300 years."

We lie there together for a while pondering our future. Kurt fingers my bed sheets and says somewhat shyly, "I have a secret base on a small island in the south Pacific. It's where I hide out on vacation after I escape from my failed vendettas. Maybe this time you could come with?"

"Hanging out at your secret lair with your evil minions? I don't know."

"The only evil minions that are on my island are Cara the housekeeper-cook and her husband Mani, the handyman. They are unobtrusive."Kurt replies.

"I won't help you in planning anything against GTC." I warn him.

"I'm retiring. I have no need to go up against your friends if I have you."

You do realise that once GTC notice that I have gone AWOL they will freeze my assets and I will have nothing."

"It doesn't bother me; I have enough wealth for the two of us to live comfortably." Kurt responds.

"Do you really think it will work out? Neither of us have long lasting relationships. It's a big step."

"For three years we have been spying on and battling against each other. As far as I'm concerned it is the longest most satisfying relationship I've had with a man. Imagine how good it will be when we're not trying to kill each other."

"You're right!" I smile broadly, Let's do this!"

We both move towards each other for our very first kiss. It is amazing and full of promise for a wonderful long future together.

* * *

**_Six months later on a small island somewhere in the Pacific..._**

Kurt and I were laying together enjoying a rather relaxing after-glow period following an energetic bout of amazing sex in our huge bed when we heard it. There was an unmistakeable glamour of cans warning us that an interloper had been caught in one of our traps that we had dotted around our little island. Both of us jumped up instantly and scurried around naked grabbing at our shorts and t's that had been dumped unceremoniously in the throws of the earlier passionate love-making.

As I threw on my shorts I said, "I'll check the net." and Kurt nodded.

"Be careful." he cautioned as he left the room.

I knew without being told or without telling him that he would sweep the area looking for other party crashers, then find a hidden area to watch me as I approach the net from the front.

I padded down the wooden front steps of our little cottage, glad that our housekeeper-cook and her husband were visiting another island for the day. It looked like one of the groups' either GTC or LOE had finally found us and if Kurt and I had to fight to the death, at least we would have to worry about our dear friends.

I had grabbed my glock and knife as I left the house. I hadn't handled either of them for six months at least, yet the weight and feel of them were still quite familiar and I was sure I could use them skillfully if I had to.

When I cautiously approached the swinging net high up in the tree I realized who the familiar struggling person was. "Hello Sue, what are you doing hanging around here?"

"Ha! Ha! Very funny. Just cut me down will you?" Sue Sylvester mumbled, in the small net her large lanky frame was doubled over and she was mostly talking into her own chest.

I brought out my knife to hack at the rope and realised the fall from such a height might actually kill her, so I reluctantly untied the chord and slowly let her down until about three feet of the ground and then I let go. She huffed out a very satisfying "huuummmpppfff!" as she landed hard on her bum.

She was still tangled in the netting when I marched over and shoved the glock to her head. She very sensibly stopped thrashing and stayed motionless.

"This trap you set is rather primitive." She says rather conversationally.

"What use is technology on this little island." I reply, "especially since you can easily send drones to blast the whole thing to smithereens if you wanted us bad enough. Besides you didn't see the trap until it was sprung and caught you."

"I wanted to get caught. I came here to speak with you about something. Do you mind telling Porcelain to quit lurking about nearby and get me out of here already?"

"No tricks?" I ask suspiciously.

"No tricks. As you suggest yourself. If I wanted you dead, you would be dead already and I wouldn't have to leave my office chair to do it. I would have pressed a button from the comfort of Control Center."

I called out to Kurt and we both freed Sue from the net and cautiously walked her back to our island house. Sue and I sat on the huge shaded porch that wrapped around our house in over-stuffed rattan chairs while Kurt got us drinks.

Sue didn't much as she sat down, she just picked and brushed of the dirt and leaves from her clothes. When Kurt came back I noticed he only had two iced coffees with him. He gave one to me and kept one for himself. I could see that he was resorting to pettiness to show Sue she was not welcome here.

"Kurt aren't you going to offer Sue, our guest a drink?" I ask, glowering at him.

"Oh would you like an iced coffee too?" He asks Sue sweetly.

"Yes please, that would be nice." she responds.

"Would you like one gob of spit in it or two?"

I sigh and hand over my drink immediately. "Here Sue have my drink. Kurt how about getting me a fresh drink, you can put in as many gobs of spit in it as you can muster."

He glares at me hard, and I know I'm going to be in trouble later for taking her side in this little unspoken dispute, but I am very curious as to what Sue wants.

"Fine! Take my drink, I'll get another." Kurt grumbles and he marches off to the house again.

Meanwhile we drink our drinks and Sue is almost pleasant as she asks about the house and compliments me on its décor. I tell her it's all Kurt designing and she seems impressed. It is obvious that she is waiting for Kurt to get back with his drink before she tell us what she wants.

Finally Kurt comes back with his coffee and she gets to the point.

"Satan is giving us some trouble" she seriously.

"What you mean the dark Lord?" I ask puzzled.

Sue just looks at me like I'm an idiot. "No Satan is the code name we use for your wayward former Fiancée Sandy. She has gone rogue and has pretty much taken up where Porcelain here had left off."

"Santana? My Santana is working for LOE?" I said hardly believing it. "She was such a Global corps hardliner."

"I know, I was grooming her for taking over from me." Sue remarked almost with a hint of sadness.

"I haven't been in contact with her since before I left GTC with Kurt. I can't help you with anything." I say.

"You know her better than most so you might have some insight as to how we can neutralize her."

I just stare at Sue stunned not knowing what to say. I look over to Kurt and he looks just as surprised. Then everything comes together and I know the answer.

"If Santana stops her threats against GTC. Will you let her live? Maybe retire her like you have me?" I ask.

"I don't know." Sue says but I know she's lying.

"This place is big enough to have her move here." Kurt says. "She can build a house on the other side of the island."

Sue mulls it over for a minute. "Very well I may be able to arrange it. Will you approach her and make a deal with her?"

"You'd have much better luck if you send Britney."

"Britney?" Sue asks, "who the hell is Britney?"

"Britney S Pierce, the scientist that designs the various concealed weapons we use."

"The one that talks her cat.?" Sue asks sceptically.

"The very one." Kurt adds. "You should listen to Dave. He is correct. Britney is the only one that can stop Santana."

Sue stares at us both like we're lunatics. After a while she says, "Well I suppose I could put Britney through intensive survival training and marshal arts to prepare her."

"No!" Kurt and I both say at the same time. Kurt continues, "Don't train Britney in any way, just send her in as she is."

"That's right, it's better that she's vulnerable and innocent." I state.

Sue doesn't get it so I spell it out to her. "Santana LIKES Britney the way she is."

"Oh!" Sue says as the light bulb turns on in her brain. "Very well Dirk, if this works, you have just earned yourself a conferral fee."

"I don't need money, I just need a peaceful life. If this works and Santana comes here with Britney. We want to be left alone, got it?"

"You have my word." says Sue and reaches out her hand for us to shake on it.

Sue finishes her coffee and stands to leave. "Thank you boys. I'm off now to grab a lift off the submarine that has been circling this little island of yours and get back to the center." and off she marches.

"We can't trust her." Kurt says as we stand side by side watching her leave.

"No , but Britney and her devices will get both the girls here safe. Besides the way the people of the world are gathering together to fight Global Corp. The company and GTC won't last much longer."

"No." Kurt turns to me and smiles, "I had better radio Lord Tubbington, that cat has quite a bit of news to tell Britney."

I reach over and pull Kurt into a hug and kiss him on the lips. "Lord Tubbington can wait. You and I have some more pressing matters to attend to." I say as I grind my hips into his."

Kurt smiles in the most sexy way possible, "Okay, but this time, I get to be the good spy and you can tie me up for a change."

**_Finis_**

**_A/N Just a quickie story for fun. I love reviews!_**


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